


we're burning, forever and ever

by punkpete



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Blood, Bottom Patrick, Dry Humping, Fluff, Frottage, Happy halloween, Kissing, Lots of it, M/M, Making Out, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Vampire Sex, Vampire!Pete, a little less sixteen candles au with a twist, brief references to past petekey, cameos from ur fave bandom people, its kinda graphic sorry, some violence, what do u expect its a vamp fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16483028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/pseuds/punkpete
Summary: Blood is dripping down his chin, and a pale, crumpled figure lies at his feet. Another fruitless search for Patrick ending in bloodshed.Pete isn’t the most moral of his kind. But he tries his best to avoid killing his victims. Once he finds Patrick he knows he won’t need to feed off of other people anymore. But Pete is growing frustrated. It usually doesn’t take him this long to find Patrick.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> have a belated start to a halloween fic. sorry i'm a mess. yes i know this is another WIP when i already have two i need to be finishing. i didn't plan this it just kind of happened. i hope you enjoy vampire pete anyway. 
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @ gothfob :)
> 
> title from demolition lovers by mcr.
> 
> p.s vampires work in this fic the same way the rules apply in the vampire diaries. mainly because it makes my life easier

Blood is dripping down his chin, and a pale, crumpled figure lies at his feet. Another fruitless search for Patrick ending in bloodshed.

 

Pete isn’t the most moral of his kind. But he tries his best to avoid killing his victims. Once he finds Patrick he knows he won’t need to feed off of other people anymore. But Pete is growing frustrated. It usually doesn’t take him this long to find Patrick.

 

He’s been walking around Europe night after night, desperately seeking rose gold hair and blue eyes. Pete is used to the chase being easy. Simplicity and things falling into his lap. He is a man of means and he gets what he wants. This time, the universe doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.

 

He stares down at the pathetic form of a woman at his feet. Or what’s left of her. There’s a bite wound on her neck, her lipstick smeared across her face and her hair a messy tangle that falls across the concrete. He can’t even bring himself to feel bad. He knows he got carried away, but he can’t take it back now.

 

He’s running out of ideas. Pete wipes her blood off his mouth with his wrist and decides he’ll have to dispose of her body on his way to the airport.

 

If Patrick isn’t here, he must be somewhere in America. If Pete is anything, he’s persistent.

 

xxx

 

Pete lands in New York. After being alive for so many years, there aren’t many places he hasn’t seen. New York is familiar to him, even though he hasn’t been back in quite some time.

 

He compels a salesman into letting him take a car instead of having to rent it. Not that Pete doesn’t have the money, he just doesn’t wanna bother wasting it on frivolous things that aren’t of value to him.

 

Unfortunately, he forgot that driving in New York city is hell on earth. He ends up stuck in traffic for a while before he can find a hotel to crash in for the night.

 

The following day, he decides to start his search for Patrick on foot. It’s easier to blend in with the crowd, slip his way into hidden alleyways, and most importantly, no one can slow him down.

 

Pete has a habit of making friends wherever he goes. They’re usually good resources, if not for food then for information. He also likes humans simply because he gets along well with them. Pete feels a lot more deeply than the average person, but that’s probably because his heightened senses.

 

He also has a lot of hobbies, with so much time on his hands. He knows how to find Patrick, even if it’s harder than usual this time around. Patrick has always loved music. It was something they had in common. So he decides to check out every music scene he can find as he makes his way across the country. Local dive bars, clubs, even record shops.

 

It doesn’t even feel like a chore, because he really enjoys meeting a bunch of talented people who are passionate about what they do. Them being tasty and easy to seduce is just a bonus. His real goal here is to find his golden boy. If he needs to keep up his strength, who can blame him?

 

In New Jersey, he meets Gabe. He’s in the pop punk scene, and he’s the lead singer of a band called _Midtown._ Pete doesn’t even have to do any of the work.

 

Gabe flirts shamelessly, and he seems to have an endless amount of stories. Gabe is charming, tan and kind of obnoxious with his pick up lines, but he’s got the whole tall dark and handsome thing going for him.

 

Pete looks up sharply when Gabe mentions ‘ _a little dude with a bad temper who played drums for us once and totally punched me in the face’._ That sounds awfully familiar.

 

“What was his name?” Pete asks, his voice incredibly calm in juxtaposition to the way his thoughts are racing. His undead heart would skip a beat if it could.

 

“Patrick Stump. We’re good friends now, actually. I probably deserved to get my ass kicked anyway.” Gabe laughs good naturedly. Pete stares at him intensely across the booth of the sticky bar table.

 

“Do you know what area he’s living in now, by any chance?” Pete demands, hoping he’s not coming across as creepy as he feels. Gabe’s eyebrows raise to his hairline.

 

“Uh, yeah. I know where he is. Why do you want to know? Who are you exactly?” Gabe squints at him suspiciously. Pete usually avoids giving people his name by deflecting and letting them do all the talking. But he needs to know where Patrick is. Sometimes, his rules of thumb are worth breaking.

 

“I’m Pete Wentz. I used to be childhood friends with Patrick. I just wanted to check up on him.” Pete lies smoothly.

 

“Oh.” Gabe deflates, all the tense energy leaving his body and his face softening incrementally. “That’s nice, actually. He never mentioned you. But I guess I didn’t know him all that well. Last I knew, he was staying in the Chicago suburbs. Trying to find a band in the hardcore scene.” Gabe admits. Pete has struck gold. He almost fist pumps in victory.

 

Instead, he celebrates by shoving Gabe inside a bathroom stall. He even rewards him with a blow job before he digs his teeth into his jugular. Pete is nothing if not generous. And greedy. What an odd combination to be. Pete thinks himself to be a very complex creature of the night.

 

He still has to make his way through a few other states before he hits Illinois, so he tries to make the most of it. He knows where his boy is, but he can’t go hungry.

 

In Pennsylvania, he meets Travie. He’s a rapper in the hip hop scene and he’s trying to get his band off the ground. He’s tall and goofy but super smart. Pete listens to his stuff, and is incredibly impressed.

 

He doesn’t seem to have what Pete is looking for, but he’s pretty and he lets Pete have his way. Nevertheless, he compels Travie to forget everything that happened between them. Just as a precaution. He doesn’t want anyone making accusations or coming to look for him.

 

In Ohio, he meets Vicky. She’s a bit of a spitfire, jagged bangs across her forehead and legs that go on for days. Pete thinks Patrick would like her. In another lifetime, maybe they’d even be friends. But in this one, Vicky works at a diner and has a lot of complaining to do. She talks Pete’s ear off, you can’t really blame him for wanting to bite her to shut her up.

 

In Indiana, he meets Frank. He’s a tiny guy, the definition of punk, covered in ink and full of more energy and enthusiasm than even Pete can muster. They talk about horror movies and music and it’s such a shame that Pete has to make him forget this.

 

He almost thinks this is the sort of thing Frank would find cool. Meeting a real life vampire and him biting you. Unfortunately, that’s a chance he can’t take. His motto has always been catch, eat, erase.

 

Finally, he hits Illinois state lines and drives down the highway towards Chicago with his handy GPS. Pete is what you’d call directionally challenged. Thank God for technology. He remembers the time when he didn’t have it, and it feels a lot like a dark abyss.

 

The problem is, Chicago has a lot of suburbs. Pete doesn’t really know where to start, so he has to make his way through every neighborhood club and bar and ask for anyone named Patrick. It’s a lot of trial and error, but Pete’s so close he can almost taste him.

 

Pete has his lucky break in Wilmette. He’s walked into a place that, according to the internet, is the heart of the hardcore Chicago scene.

 

When he walks in the door of the club, he can smell him. _Patrick._

 

The sweat on his skin, his racing heart, Pete can practically feel it. Patrick is here. Pete has finally found him.

 

Pete looks around frantically, his eyes skittering from the bar to the stage to the booths in the back. He has yet to spot pale skin with freckles and rosy pink lips, so he strides his way through the crowd and seats himself in the back, making sure he still has a clear view of the stage.

 

He pulls his hood over his head and tries to blend in with the shadows. He takes his phone out of his skinny jeans pocket and shoots off a text to Gerard while his leg bounces under the table with nervous energy.

 

_hey dude. u up yet? i need some advice._

 

Gerard is what you would call a vampire cliche. He’s the only one of their kind Pete knows who actually sleeps all day long. He has a daylight ring, so he’s perfectly capable of going outside. But he’s more of the reclusive hermit type.

 

His brother Mikey, however, is more like the life of the party. They’re pretty much polar opposites, but he’s tied to Gerard because he’s the one who turned him.

 

As much as he likes Mikey, they weren’t meant to be. Not just because Gerard would kick his ass if he slept with his brother, but because the universe had better ideas for Pete. He chooses to have faith in the cosmos. It’s all he can do.

 

Before Pete can even hope for a response, the house lights flicker on and a band takes the stage. His breath catches out of reflex when he sees a familiar strawberry blonde head with a guitar in his hands and a mic stand in front of him. He’s just as beautiful as Pete remembers, if not more.

 

There’s a drummer behind him, all muscles and ink with sunglasses shielding his eyes from the spotlights. To Patrick’s left is the other guitarist, who has unruly, curly hair that hangs in his face and a smile that spells trouble. Pete is enraptured when Patrick opens his mouth and starts to sing.

 

Pete’s mouth starts to water as he takes in the expanse of Patrick’s long, slender neck. The way he moves his hips and his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. His red, swollen mouth and the way he growls into the mic sends a shiver down Pete’s spine.

 

Near the end of the set, when Pete feels like his entire body is tingling, his phone vibrates against his thigh. He’s annoyed, loathing to look away from the pretty sight before him.

 

He glances down to read it and freezes, before a slow smile spreads across his face.

 

_If this is about Patrick, you don’t need my help, fuckface. You’re like, meant to be together in every lifetime or whatever. Just be yourself. Tell him you want his babies and I’m sure he’ll swoon._

 

Gerard was always good at giving Pete a pep talk.

 

 _thnks gee. miss ur stupid face. ill report back l8r,_ Pete sends back. When he puts his phone back into his pocket, he looks up just in time to see Patrick slide his guitar behind his back and start helping the other guys put away their equipment.

 

Pete leaps to his feet and makes his way towards the stage. If he can get his way into Patrick’s good graces right off the bat by offering to help them with their gear, then he’s gonna try his hardest to be charming and helpful.

 

“Hey. You guys want some help?” Pete inquires, trying to look as friendly and harmless as possible. The drummer gives him a distrustful look, but Patrick seems to give him a once over before nodding and handing him the cords to an amp.

 

Pete has to bite down on his smile as he helps them carry the equipment out back towards an old beat up van. After he’s set everything down, he wipes his hands off on his jeans and introduces himself.

 

“I’m Patrick, and this is Joe, and over there is Andy.” Patrick says, his voice like honey. Pete’s body aches with longing, with memories past. He has to stop himself from saying _I know_. Andy seems to avoid Pete all together by staying in the front seat, but Joe gives him a good natured pat on the back and asks him if he plays anything, because they’re looking for a bassist.

 

Pete knows a chance when he sees one. He takes it.

 

“Yeah! I play bass. I write lyrics, sometimes, but...I don’t know if they’re any good.” Pete says, trying to be modest.

 

“They can’t be any worse than Patrick’s.” Joe teases. Patrick punches him in the arm and scowls. Pete practically swoons. It’s a near thing.

 

“I’ll let him be the judge of that.” Pete says softly, his voice far too tender to a boy he’s just met. If his eyes twinkle at Patrick, he can’t really help it.

  
Patrick gives him the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, and Pete thinks _maybe this time he’ll stay with me forever._


	2. two

In the grand scheme of things, the band was never part of the plan. This is also the first time he’s met Patrick at the tender age of sixteen. He never thought he’d have the pleasure of meeting a version of Patrick that’s so young. He can’t decide if that will make this harder or easier.

 

The band is fun and all, but it only serves as a means to an end for Pete. A tool to get Patrick to fall in love with him. A way to worm himself into Patrick’s heart before he breaks the news that he’s an undead creature. He doesn’t want to scare Patrick away.

 

He has to be precise and calculated. He can’t compel Patrick like everyone else. That would be cheating. Patrick has to fall in love with him for real. Coercion is off the table. Pete has rules, even if they only apply to the love of his many lifetimes. The problem is, this version of Patrick seems immune to his charms.

 

Pete compliments him, Patrick scowls and tells him to fuck off. Pete makes a lewd comment, he gets the finger in response. Pete tries to make a suggestion about a chord progression, Patrick starts swinging. He thinks this version of Patrick is a little more ill-tempered than he remembers. He could chock that up to his age, but he can’t be sure.

 

It’s not that he thinks Patrick hates him, because that’s impossible, no matter the lifetime or the universe. But he thinks Patrick is wary of him, doesn’t trust Pete or his motives. Pete and Patrick are two very different people. Against all odds, they fit together. Pete just needs to make Patrick see that.

 

Pete needs to make Patrick sure of his intentions. Pete wants Patrick for all that he is. If he can make him a rockstar, that’s just a bonus. He wants his golden boy to get everything he deserves.

 

Pete finds himself browsing the bins of vinyls in a record store, glued to Patrick’s side. It’s just the two of them. Being alone together is a good start, Pete thinks.

 

Patrick is waxing poetic about the brilliance of Motown, and Pete is hopelessly enamored with him. Even if Pete has never liked his atrocious taste in music. He likes when Patrick is passionate about things. He hums and nods in all the right places and smiles at Patrick like he hung the fucking moon. Pete has always been a lovesick fool.

 

“Hey Pattycakes?” Pete interrupts Patrick in the middle of talking about the genius of David Bowie. Patrick frowns, whether at being unable to finish his rant or the nickname, Pete isn’t sure.

 

Patrick hums noncommittally and goes back to flipping through records.

 

“Can we go back to your house? You can show me your whole collection.” Pete pushes onwards. He has a plan, that may or may not include making Patrick’s mother adore him.

 

Step 1 in the Get-Patrick-to-fall-in-love-with-me-so-I-can-get-him-to-agree-to-spend-eternity-with-me plan. Granted, this plan has never had a 100% success rate, but Pete isn’t giving up on him. He’s stubborn that way. Also, who is he to deny the universe what it wants? Patrick and him have an epic love story.

 

“Sure?” Patrick says, squinting at Pete suspiciously. He follows Patrick to the checkout counter and buys him music to his heart’s content.

 

“You didn’t have to buy me those. I can pay you back.” Patrick offers, his face red with shame.

 

“Nonsense. Consider it a show of good faith.” Pete waves his hand, brushing it off as nothing. He has a lot more money where that came from, anyhow. Not that Patrick knows that.

 

They walk the couple blocks to Patrick’s small, neat suburban home. Pete has to stop and marvel at it. White picket fence, perfectly manicured lawn. He wants all that with Patrick and more. He’s determined to get it. 100th time is the charm, right?

 

Patrick leads him inside and they take off their sneakers at the door. They have to walk through the kitchen to get to the stairs up to Patrick’s room. As Pete had hoped, Patrick’s mother sits at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a magazine in front of her. She looks up at them and smiles.

 

“Hi honey! I see you brought over a friend. What’s your name, dear?” Patricia asks, her voice sweet and full of curiosity. Pete likes her instantly.

 

“I’m Pete.” He replies, reaching out a hand for her to shake. Patricia laughs, and gets up from the table to envelope him in a hug instead.

 

Pete is taken aback, but he thinks this is a good sign. He returns the hug tenfold and smiles at Patrick over her shoulder. Patrick gapes at them.

 

“Sorry. I’m a hugger. Hope you don’t mind! Nice to meet you, Pete. You can call me Trisha.” Patricia beams at him. Pete can’t believe his luck. No compelling necessary or anything.

 

“ _Mom!_ ” Patrick whines, his face flushed with a combination of annoyance and humiliation.

 

“Nice to meet you too, Trisha. I’m starting a band with your son, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pete grins, his teeth glinting in the light. Luckily, the fangs retract when he isn’t feeding.

 

“Patrick told me. You seem like such a nice young man. Go have fun!” Patricia calls as they make their way up the stairs. Patrick huffs, stomping his way up. Pete is seconds away from skipping with joy.

 

“You’re unbelievable.” Patrick grumbles, flopping down on the bed on his back and placing his bag of records on the floor.

 

“What? I can’t help it. Moms love me.” Pete gives Patrick a shit-eating grin. Patrick sits up on his elbows to glare at him. Pete is beginning to wonder if this version of Patrick thinks violence is foreplay. Not that Pete is opposed, of course. He heals supernaturally fast.

 

“I hate you, so the balance of the world is restored.” Patrick deadpans.

 

“You don’t mean that, Lunchbox.” Pete coos. “You love me and you know it.”

 

“If you say so.” Patrick rolls his eyes, and gets up to take the plastic film off his new purchases and put them on the shelves in the right order. Pete whistles.

 

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of music.” Pete is impressed. He’s never seen someone collect that much of anything in such a short period of time.

 

“600 records, with today’s additions.” Patrick runs his fingers over them and smiles to himself. Pete is so in love with him, it’s almost as if nothing has changed. Except Patrick has no idea who or what he is. This might take a while to fix. It’s a good thing Pete has all the time in the world.

 

“You could start your own store.” Pete teases good naturedly. Patrick gestures him over to the shelves, so Pete gets off the bed and carefully takes one out to look at the track listing on the back. Patrick is standing so close he can feel his body heat.

 

In the midst of Pete reading through song titles, Patrick reaches out and touches the charm on the necklace Pete is wearing. Patrick’s hot breath hits his face and Pete inhales sharply on reflex. He doesn’t need to breathe anymore, but old habits die hard.

 

“What’s with the necklace?” Patrick raises an eyebrow, his voice soft and silky. Pete wants to trace his brow, the curve of his jaw. He refrains, and answers the question as blithely as possible.

 

“It’s just a necklace. I thought it looked cool. I’m into halloween themed shit.” Pete lies through his teeth. The charm is a bat. Did Pete mention he loves irony? But that’s beside the point. The necklace is also what makes it possible for him to walk outside in the sunlight. Patrick drops his hand and snorts.

 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Patrick says pointedly, looking down at the _Nightmare Before Christmas_ sleeve on his arm. If Pete weren’t a vampire, he’s pretty sure he’d want to be Jack Skellington. Maybe Patrick can be his Sally.

 

“I’m an open book.” Pete laughs. Patrick gives him a look of admiration. It throws Pete off balance for the second time in 2 minutes. This Patrick has a odd ability to surprise him.

 

“I wish I could be more like that. It’s hard to be vulnerable with people. It’s kind of like showing your guts.” Patrick bites his lip and turns away, heading for his desk chair in the corner of his room.

 

“It gets easier. If you never know who you can trust, then, trust me, you’ll be lonely. You can’t push everyone away.” Pete replies sagely.

 

“I know. But it’s still hard. Speaking of vulnerability, are you gonna show me your lyrics? We have practice tomorrow. Maybe I can come up with a melody for one of your songs.” Patrick taps his fingers against the desk in perfect rhythm, to a song only he can hear. For now, at least.

 

Pete lets Patrick have the out, and pulls his little travel sized notebook out of his hoodie pocket.

 

“Catch.” Pete says, and throws it towards Patrick. He catches it seamlessly, turning around in the chair so he can open the notebook and read Pete’s chicken scratch in the light.

 

Pete sits on the bed, nervously jiggling his leg up and down and waiting for a verdict. He doesn’t think his words are all that good, feels as if he’s bled all his feelings about Patrick onto hundreds of pages over the years. He hopes it isn’t too obvious, that Patrick can’t see right through him when he reads words like _golden_ and _true blue_ or maybe even _freckle freckle._

 

10 minutes later, when Patrick has read through about half of Pete’s disjointed, rambling thoughts, he turns to face Pete with a very serious expression on his face.

 

“You’re fucking brilliant.” Patrick finally says, in complete awe. “I mean, obviously they aren’t perfect, and I’ll probably have to rearrange some lines and put them together to make sure it makes sense but...Pete. Your words are so raw, beautiful and gut wrenching. I can totally work with this.” Patrick beams at him.

 

Pete smiles back at him, utterly relieved with his heart fit to bursting. He thinks maybe he’s finally getting somewhere. Now all he has to do is convince the rest of the band that he can be trusted. That he’s worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back!! listen. i planned to post this as a completed fic on halloween of 2018. this has been sitting in my google docs since october 31st, because i wrote it last minute like a goddamn idiot. but i posted what i had so far because i wanted it up in time for halloween. 
> 
> then i decided that this would only be 2 parts, and part two would just be a lot longer so i could make this fic around~20k. and now i'm caving. because writing chaptered things is more fun and getting feedback as i go really helps! and i hated making you guys wait with zero explanation (even if i was posting other fob fics in the mean time) 
> 
> also, the response i got to this fic when i posted a measly 2k blew me away. you guys are amazing, and i'm so happy you enjoy this so far. sorry it's taking me so long to write! also, did ya catch the very obvious p!atd lyric? good. anyways. enjoy this little gem. more to come soon. kisses xo
> 
> find me on tumblr @gothfob :-)
> 
> p.s as you can see i never have a set upload schedule because i'm a mess and i'm always writing 8 things at once but i swear i'm trying. also i rarely outline these fics i just have a vague idea of how i want them to go and i just kind of wing it lmao.


	3. three

Time passes quickly for Pete. Especially when he’s with Patrick. The minutes are ticking down, and Pete fears the day Patrick gets old and gray before him yet again. He fears more the times he doesn’t make it that far. Pete has known love and grief for Patrick like no one else.

 

He’d rather die himself then watch Patrick die again, fragile and human. Especially when Pete could save him with one simple bite.

 

A year has gone by, and they’ve finally got almost an entire album under their belt. Pete would also like to think he’s got Andy and Joe to respect and trust him. Somehow, he’s become the leader of the group. He agreed to be frontman for Patrick’s benefit.

 

But most importantly, he thinks Patrick might finally be feeling something for him other than exasperated annoyance. Everything is falling into place. It’s almost too easy, and it leaves Pete on edge.

 

They’re getting ready to go on their first tour, in Joe’s old beat up van. Pete could totally get them a nicer vehicle to carry all their equipment, but he’s pretty sure that’d be suspicious when he’s supposedly 22 and unemployed. Besides, it’s more authentic this way. When they have to work for it.

 

Pete admits he’s worried for the tour. Mainly because he doesn’t have blood bags, and he can’t feed on the other guys or around them. That only leaves him time to feed after shows, that little space between getting off stage and heading back to the van for the night.

 

He makes sure his bloodlust is satiated before they leave. He doesn’t want any accidents in a van full of teenage boys. He’s pretty sure that’d wind up on the news.

 

Pete helps Patrick pack his things into the back of the van. Guitar, amp, duffle bag full of clothes, toiletries, and anything else he might need.

 

“I still don’t know how the fuck you convinced my mom to let me do this. Especially with someone as irresponsible as _you_.” Patrick huffs.

 

“I resent that. Besides, I’m very persuasive.” Pete gives Patrick his best smolder. Patrick blushes and turns away.

 

“You’re ridiculous.” Patrick grumbles, with no heat behind it. Pete smiles to himself and hops into the back seat of the van, squished between Patrick and their equipment. It’s the most at home he’s ever felt.

 

Joe is in the passenger seat with the map, and Andy is behind the wheel fiddling with the radio.

 

“First stop, party town!” Joe says, pumping his fist in the air. Pete whoops. Patrick scowls at him.

 

“Knock it off.” Andy replies. Joe sinks down into the seat and mumbles an apology. Pete laughs. This is gonna be fun.

 

xxx

 

After their first show together, Pete is so proud of Patrick. He might’ve thrown up in the bathroom beforehand, but he shines in the stage lights now. Pete puts his arm around his waist and takes a bow.

 

It might be a shitty dive bar and the audience might only have around forty people, but Pete feels high on the victory of it. Patrick is his golden boy. He has more talent in his pinky finger than Pete does in his whole body. By the looks on the crowd’s faces, they can see it too.

 

Pete is full of adrenaline when they get off stage, offers to buy them all beer and pizza. He thinks it’ll be a good distraction for him to sneak away, to find someone to drink from. If he gets laid, that’s just a bonus. He doesn’t wanna tempt himself right now by sticking around Patrick. He doesn’t trust himself. He knows it’s not a good idea.

 

The universe has other plans. And by the universe, he means Joe. Once they’re all sat in a booth together, pizza and beer in hand, Pete tries to make his stealthy exit, an excuse for the bathroom on the tip of his tongue.

 

“Whoa, dude. Where do you think you’re going? We’re celebrating! Sit down.” Joe says, muffled with a mouthful of pizza. Pete feels a wave of guilt wash over him. Joe isn’t wrong. He should be here. He should celebrate with his friends. They’ve accomplished something incredible, and this is only the beginning.

 

Pete stays, at Joe’s insistence. He has a good time, joking and laughing with his friends and pretending the pizza doesn’t taste like cardboard and that he can get drunk at all.

 

Once they’re finishing up, he thinks he’s in the clear. He can slip outside undetected. Get a quick bite to eat and get rid of the evidence before heading back to the van for the night.

 

Pete goes out the back entrance of the bar into the alley way. He stakes out the area, looking for any silhouettes in the street lights. He sniffs the air, smells something delicious and distinctly familiar, and turns to see Patrick standing behind him. He’s screwed.

 

He can hear the pulse of Patrick’s blood through his veins. The smell of his skin. The beer on his breath.

 

Pete swallows hard and takes a step back, feeling like a cornered animal. A predator that has become prey to his own instincts.

 

Patrick looks at him, alarmed by the expression on his face.

 

“Are you okay? You just left without saying anything.” Patrick inquires, his voice gentle with concern. He’s searching for something in Pete’s eyes. Pete doesn’t think he’ll like whatever he finds.

 

“Yeah.” Pete lies. “I needed some air. It’s hot in there.” Pete swallows hard, trying not to stare at the bob of Patrick’s adam’s apple. He turns his back to Patrick, so the wind can carry some of his intoxicating scent away.

 

“You sure that’s all it is? You should be on cloud nine right now. I can’t help but think you don’t look very happy.” Patrick replies softly. Pete can hear him approaching, his sneakers tapping against the gravel until he’s right behind Pete.

 

He can feel his body heat, hear the flutter of his heart. Pete loves him for how much he cares, but he cannot let himself hurt him. Not like this. Not now.

 

“I’m fine. I think I just need to take a walk. Alone. Clear my head. Before I….do something I regret.” Pete says the last part in a whisper, mostly to himself. Unfortunately, that’s the part Patrick chooses to pay attention to. It was a mistake, a slip of Pete’s tongue. Fuck.

 

“What do you mean?” Patrick asks, his voice sounding timid and his breath hitting the back of Pete’s neck. He can feel it happening in slow motion, Patrick reaching out. “Pete, tell me what’s wrong.” Patrick’s voice wavers as he settles his hand on Pete’s shoulder and squeezes.

 

Pete pulls away abruptly at the touch, the warmth, whirling back around to face him.

 

“You don’t understand. You _can’t._ ” Pete pleads with Patrick silently to stop asking questions. He feels like his stitches are coming loose. Pete is pretty sure he looks crazy right now, wild-eyed and scared at the possibility of snapping, of hurting the one person he loves the most. He can’t ruin this shot at life.

 

“Explain it to me. You’re freaking me out. Come on. You know you can tell me anything, right?” Patrick replies, earnest as ever. Pete wants so badly to cave, to fall to his knees and cry and spill all his dirty secrets.

 

But it’s too soon. Patrick will run away and he will never come back. It’s too much for a kid who barely knows him.

 

“I can’t tell you this. At least not right now. I promise I will someday. Please, Trick. Let it go.” Pete begs, feels the tears stinging his eyes.

 

Patrick holds his gaze for a moment, and then he clenches his jaw and nods. Pete can’t stop him, doesn’t realize it’s happening until it’s too late. Patrick wraps his arms around Pete and pulls him into a hug.

 

Pete tenses, but he can’t stop himself from burying his face in Patrick’s neck and breathing him in. _Don’t bite, don’t bite, don’t bite._ Patrick rubs his back to try to soothe him, and then he pulls back until he can see Pete’s face.

 

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. I love you.” Patrick says, his voice strong and sure. Pete takes a step back, flabbergasted by the statement.

 

He didn’t expect to hear that from Patrick for another few years. It’s too soon. Pete gapes at him, jaw slack, undead heart flipping in his chest.

 

Pete does the stupidest thing possible. He doesn’t say it back. His brain is offline, he doesn’t think it through, he just hears those words from Patrick and it’s like he’s been sent back in time to every instance he’s heard them.

 

Pete grabs Patrick’s face in his hands and he kisses him hard on the mouth.

 

He kisses him and it’s like coming home. He kisses him and he can’t stop. He kisses him and he’s hungry for so much more. He gives in to his desires for just a moment. Pete comes back down to Earth when he nearly breaks the skin on Patrick’s lower lip, and then he’s tearing himself away with a gasp.

 

“Fuck. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Pete babbles, apologizing profusely. Patrick stares at him, wide-eyed and confused.

 

“Why did you-?” Patrick stutters, his words disjointed as he touches his fingers to his swollen lips.

 

“I don’t know. But it was a mistake. Let’s just pretend it never happened, alright? I have to go. Take that walk. I’ll be back to the van in twenty. Don’t worry about me.” Pete is so anxious and angry at himself he’s talking a mile a minute, his skin itching to get away, to feed. He starts backing away from Patrick, out of the alley and towards the street.

 

He glances back at Patrick and his heart breaks at the way his eyebrows are furrowed. Patrick looks hurt. He’s frowning down at the concrete, and then he turns on his heel without saying goodbye and heads back into the bar.

 

Pete loathes to think about what he’s going to tell Joe and Andy. Or what if he doesn’t tell them anything at all? Pete doesn’t know what’s worse.

 

He traded one secret for another. Patrick knows how Pete feels about him, and it’s the price he had to pay so he didn’t find out everything all at once.

 

He can’t decide what’s scarier. His capacity to love and not let go, or the fact he’s a creature of the night. Even when he was human, people ran for the hills because he felt too much. Loved too hard.

 

He’s always been a hot mess. It seems his vampiric tendencies have just heightened that. To top it all off, Patrick is sure to be suspicious of him now. Not to mention angry.

 

Pete doesn’t know what he’s going to do. This isn’t how the plan was supposed to go. He’s good at getting Patrick to fall in love with him. He’s done it for decades.

 

The hard part is getting him to stay. This time, he thinks he may have ruined it before it even began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta daaaa. i'm sorry these chapters are so short, but i'm doing my best to get them up faster. i hope you enjoyed! comments and kudos make my world go round. tell me your thoughts on vampire!pete.
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob
> 
> farewell until next time!


	4. four

Patrick lets him get away with it for a while. Weeks go by, and it’s basically impossible to avoid someone you’re traveling in a cramped van with, but he and Patrick try to act as normal as possible around the other guys.

 

Pete thinks he’s almost gotten away with it, until Andy corners him after a show one night in a dark corner of the crowded bar.

 

“What did you do?” He demands, narrowing his eyes at Pete.

 

“Why does everyone always assume everything is my fault?” Pete splutters, clutching at his chest in offense.

 

“Because 9 times out of 10 it is. Let me specify: What did you do to Patrick?” Andy groans, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index and middle finger.

 

“Nothing.” Pete says far too quickly, and winces when Andy gives him a disbelieving look. “Okay, fine. I kindofkissedhim?” Pete mumbles, all in one breath.

 

“Of course you did.” Andy sighs, clearly put upon.

 

“Look. It’s not like I planned on it. He might’ve...told me he loved me. Therefore I am not responsible for how I react to hearing those words unexpectedly.” Pete admits, grimacing. Andy just stares at him, mouth gaping open.

 

“You two are both fucking crazy. But I swear to god if you guys can’t work your shit out and the band breaks up I’m gonna kick your ass.” Andy threatens.

 

“Got it.” Pete nods, swallowing hard. “I can fix this. I swear.”

 

“You better.” Andy huffs, and then he’s gone.

 

The tour is almost over. They go home at the end of the week, so Pete could totally put off this difficult conversation with Patrick until he’s back in his bedroom.

 

In fact, that sounds much more appealing than the possibility of arguing with Patrick while being stuck in a van with him for days.

 

Pete does the next best thing, and decides to take a walk so he can give Gerard a call.

 

“What is it?” Gerard picks up after five rings, sounding distracted. Pete would bet money that Gerard is drawing, he can hear the sound of the pencil scratching the paper.

 

“I think I fucked up.” Pete says. He might as well get right to the point. Pete can hear Gerard drop the pencil and give him his full attention.

 

“What happened?” Gerard asks tentatively.

 

“I kissed him. But I think it was too soon. We haven’t talked since.” Pete whines.

 

“Wait. Give me more context. _Why_ did you kiss him?” Gerard inquires, sounding much wiser and older than normal.

 

As far as vampires go, he’s middle aged at best. Not thousands of years old by any means, but three centuries older than Pete.

 

“He told me he loved me. I lost control. But I didn’t bite him.” Pete replies, sounding properly scorned even though Gerard hasn’t judged him or yelled at him at all.

 

“This might not be as bad as you think. Especially if he’s only known you for a year this time around and he’s already confessing his love for you.” Gerard hums noncommittally down the line.

 

“Well, it feels bad right about now. We haven’t talked about it and it’s been weeks. It’s like an elephant in the room every time I’m near him.” Pete frowns, kicking at the curb with the toe of his ratty Converse.

 

“Peter.” Gerard sighs. “It’s really simple. Talk to him. Tell him you feel the same. The whole _‘I’m a vampire and I want you to spend eternity with me’_ speech can come later.”

 

The sad part is, Pete knows Gerard is right. Gerard is always right. Pete is making this way more complicated than it needs to be. Goddamn Gerard for being the logical one.

 

“You make a good point.” Pete admits, feeling utterly defeated and just plain stupid.

 

“It’s easier said than done. Just be nice to him. Take it slow.” Gerard advises. Pete nods, and then he remembers Gerard can’t see him.

 

“Right. I’ll do that.” Pete pauses, carefully considering his words before he says them. “How’s Mikey?”

 

Gerard is quiet for a moment, and Pete hears shuffling, and then, quietly, Gee says:

 

“He’s fine. Why are you asking?” Gerard’s voice is soft and all too knowing. Pete shrugs and tries to keep his voice even.

 

“I don’t know. I care about him. I worry. Same as you.” Pete bites his lip nervously, pacing the sidewalk back and forth.

 

“Mm.” Gerard doesn’t sound convinced by Pete’s charade. “I don’t think you care about him in a brotherly sort of way, darling.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Pete shakes his head. “That’s over now. I’ve accepted it.”

 

“Maybe. But you still care enough to ask. I’m sorry for the way things turned out. But you can have your happy ending, Pete. You’re so close. Don’t blow it. Go get your boy.” Gerard says, reassuring and full of sorrow on Pete’s behalf. Pete is determined to keep the past just that; the past.

 

“I will. Even if it kills me.” Pete promises, more to himself than to Gerard.

 

“Living well is the best revenge, right?” Gerard giggles, his laugh tinkling through the phone.

 

“I do love revenge.” Pete grins, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. Pete is ready to claim what’s his.

 

xxx

 

Things remain tense between Pete and Patrick for the rest of the week. Pete aches to spill his guts, to fix it. But he doesn’t want to screw this up even more. He can’t.

 

He gives Patrick space, lets him be angry and hurt and confused. Oddly, it seems to be good for Patrick’s confidence when he’s performing. Anger is motivation, after all.

 

By Friday, their last day on the road and on the way home, the tension is nearly suffocating Pete. It’s taught, drawn tight like a guitar string ready to snap.

 

Patrick is glaring at him in the mirror from the passenger seat. Pete tries his best to avoid his gaze, bounces his leg to the music coming from the radio and sticks his hand out the window to feel the breeze on his skin.

 

Andy is quiet as he drives, but Joe is sitting next to Pete and talking about a girl he met last night. Pete is only half listening, too stuck in his own head like usual. He nods and hums in the right places, because he doesn’t want to make Joe upset with him too.

 

But, all things considered, no one knows pining in the way Pete does. It almost makes him laugh hysterically. Try wanting to be with someone for decades upon decades, Joe. That’s what sadness feels like.

 

But Pete doesn’t want to be insensitive to his friend’s problems, so he keeps his mouth shut and acts supportive.

 

Patrick gets dropped off at home first, and Pete jumps at his chance to finally talk to him alone.

 

“Wait, Trick!” Pete calls, scrambling out of the back and out onto the walkway in front of Patrick’s house. “Can I come in? I think we should talk.”

  
Patrick gives him a look that reads something like _Are you fucking kidding me?_ and his mouth remains a harsh line. But he clenches his jaw and nods, before turning on his heel and walking up to his front door, keys in hand.

 

Pete follows behind at a sedate pace, like he’s walking to his execution. He hopes to God that the universe is on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was short and mostly dialogue but i did my best. i hope you enjoy it anyway. eeee, sorry for cliffhangers. its 3am, cut me some slack, folks. i usually avoid petekey like the plague but i thought it'd make the plot more interesting, so. do with that what you will.
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob !!


	5. five

Pete follows Patrick up the stairs to his room in silence. Patrick throws his travel bag on the floor and rolls onto his bed with a groan. Pete gingerly sits on the other side and sinks back into the pillows.

 

“God, I’ve missed sleeping in a real bed.” Pete practically moans at the feeling of relief. His body is cramped and aching from sleeping on the floor of the van. Patrick turns onto his side to squint at Pete in disbelief. 

 

“Really? You’re deflecting this conversation?” Patrick scoffs, clearly fed up with him after ignoring this exact conversation for weeks. 

 

“Sorry. I don’t know where to start. Do you want to go first?” Pete asks, his voice nearly trembling with his anxiety. 

 

Patrick sits up, crossing his legs at the ankle and leaning back on his hands. He’s avoiding Pete’s eyes now. 

 

“I’m really fucking mad at you. I told you how I felt about you and you just….kissed me and ran off. What even  _ was  _ that?” Patrick sounds like he wants to cry, or punch Pete in the face. Pete would happily take the punch if it would make Patrick feel better. 

 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to hear those words from you that night. You caught me off guard and I couldn’t control my reaction so I panicked and ran.” Pete grimaces. Patrick glares at him.

 

“Right. And then you proceeded to pretend it never happened. For weeks.” Patrick sniffles, and Pete aches to wrap him up in his arms and hold him. But Pete is pretty sure he’d get slapped if he did that right now. 

 

“I didn’t want to freak you out or scare you off. I thought I should give you space and not overwhelm you with everything I wanted so desperately to confess. I know it sounds like an excuse but I’ve been told before that I’m too much. That I love too hard and I’m kind of...obsessive.” Pete admits, running a nervous hand through his hair.

 

“Go on.” Patrick encourages, his face visibly softening. 

 

“I also didn’t think this was a conversation we should have in front of Andy and Joe. It’s too important. And this is between us.” Pete says fiercely.

 

“You make a good point. But you could’ve given me some sort of explanation. It’s really frustrating being left in the dark for so long. I was uncertain about what you were thinking and feeling. I hated feeling so disconnected from you.” Patrick sighs, rubbing his temples. 

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. I never want to hurt your feelings. I love you. I’m  _ in _ love with you. Is that clear enough?” Pete replies, completely heartfelt. Patrick grins at him, and rolls over until he’s straddling Pete’s hips. 

 

“Say it again.” Patrick whispers, leaning down until their mouths are a breath apart. 

 

“I love you, Trickerdoodle.” Pete gives Patrick a toothy smile. 

 

“You ruined it.” Patrick rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. “But I love you too, asshole.” 

 

Pete barely lets Patrick finish the sentence, tilts his chin up until he can press his mouth against Patrick’s. Patrick inhales sharply, like he’s surprised, but quickly lets Pete in and relaxes on top of him. 

 

Pete wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck and his legs around his waist, so they’re pressed together from head to toe. 

 

Pete bites down on Patrick’s delectable bottom lip and Patrick moans above him, opening his mouth to let their tongues touch. Pete buries his hands in Patrick’s hair and knocks his hat off onto the floor. Patrick is too involved to care. 

 

Pete is getting sensory overload, breathing in the smell of Patrick’s skin and hearing the pounding of his heart that’s pumping blood through his veins. He smells and looks edible. Being able to touch and not bite is a special kind of torture. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks with his regular teeth. He pulls back from Patrick’s wet, swollen mouth with a pop and trails kisses down Patrick’s jaw to his neck. 

 

Patrick whines at the loss, but quickly throws his head back to give Pete more room. Pete sucks a hickey high on Patrick’s neck, one he won’t be able to hide. Pete feels a weird satisfaction at that, soothes the teeth marks and the forming bruise with his tongue before moving down to bite at his collarbone instead. 

 

“Fuck, Pete.” Patrick whimpers. Pete is pretty sure his hair is falling across the pillow right now like a dark halo around his head, but Patrick is looking at him like the second coming. Pete thinks he’s definitely more of an Angel of Death. He giggles to himself and leans up to rub their noses together. 

 

“What do you want?” Pete murmurs, almost directly into Patrick’s mouth. 

 

“Anything. Everything.” Patrick says breathlessly. Pete would be happy to oblige, but he’s almost positive this version of Patrick is far too young and inexperienced for them to immediately have sex. 

 

“Mmm.” Pete hums noncommittally and licks at Patrick’s top lip. “How about we start slow?” Pete says, changing course. 

 

“You’re such a tease and I hate you.” Patrick deadpans. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll thank me for this later.” Pete smiles and kisses him again. “How about we just keep making out and see where it takes us. You wanna put on some music?” Pete suggests. 

 

“Fine. But only because it’ll help set the mood.” Patrick sounds prissy as he gets up off Pete’s body and heads to his record player. He pulls a vinyl out of its case and puts the needle to the record. Marvin Gaye’s  _ Let’s Get It On _ starts to play. Pete can’t help it, he’s laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and nearly falling off the bed. 

 

“You’re  _ so  _ cheesy and predictable.” Pete gets out through his giggles. Patrick lays back on his bed and gestures Pete to get on top of him with a flick of his wrist. 

 

“I wanted to play something that would provide incentive.” Patrick says primly, raising an eyebrow at Pete. 

 

“You’re a dork.” Pete beams, settling himself into Patrick’s lap and letting his hands roam down his chest and settle on his thighs. Pete kisses him soundly on the mouth and pulls his hair. Pete hasn’t come in his pants in quite some time, but he’s pretty sure that’s the territory they’re heading towards. 

 

They’re both wearing jeans, but Pete couldn’t give less of a fuck when he starts grinding against Patrick’s lap and the friction nearly makes him lose his mind. Patrick’s mouth falls open and he _ growls. _ Pete freezes, looking at him in amazement. 

 

“Do. That. Again.” Pete pleads, his dick hard as a rock suddenly. 

 

“Keep going and I will.” Patrick demands, planting his hands on Pete’s ass and urging him onwards with a squeeze. Pete moans, and he starts moving his hips as fast as he can manage with his mouth attached to Patrick’s. 

 

Patrick starts to thrust up against him, quickly finding the same rhythm so they’re moving together in time, the song fading out in the background. Pete has missed this, missed  _ him _ , has to bite his lip hard in order to not spill his guts. 

 

Pete begins to feel frantic, his belly clenching as he humps Patrick desperately. Patrick’s chest is heaving against him, sweat running down the side of his face that’s progressively getting redder. Patrick is whimpering and moaning in his ear, his fingernails digging into Pete’s ass through denim, and Pete is helpless. 

 

His mouth opens in a silent scream when he starts to come, convulsing against Patrick and gripping the back of his neck. He sucks in a deep breath as he trembles, bites down on Patrick’s shoulder through cotton as his body shakes with aftershocks. His boxers are soaked but he’s never felt lighter in his life.

 

Pete pulls back to see Patrick’s eyes dilated and full of want. Patrick thrusts his hips up against Pete’s ass, and Pete does the only thing he can think of. He scoots backwards and starts rubbing Patrick’s dick through his jeans. 

 

Patrick growls in the back of his throat again, and Pete is already in love with that sound. Patrick kisses him hard again, and Pete grinds the palm of his hand into the head of Patrick’s cock. He feels it when Patrick comes, hears the cut off moan and the way his dick twitches against Pete’s hand. His palm feels warm and wet, his come soaking through the denim. 

 

Pete can’t help it when he sticks his fingers in his mouth to get the phantom of the taste. Patrick looks at him, post-orgasm glow and shell shocked simultaneously. 

 

“You’re so gross.” Patrick teases. Pete shrugs, slides off Patrick’s lap and wraps his arms around him from behind instead. 

 

“Cuddle me before we have to change out of these clothes.” Pete says firmly. Patrick settles his hands over Pete’s and buries his smile in the pillow. 

 

“I’m sticky and it’s all your fault.” Patrick scrunches up his nose in disgust.

  
“It was my pleasure.” Pete leers from over his shoulder. Patrick elbows him in the stomach, and Pete presses his nose into the back of his neck and thinks  _ Stay with me.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter could be more aptly called 'the friction in his jeans'. lmao. im so sorry. hope you enjoyed the softcore porn folks.
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob :)


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo. i'm back. sorry this took so long, but my birthday was last week and life got busy. welcome me to the roaring 20's club. anyways, i regret not being able to participate in the peterick valentine's day collection, but i have a lot on my plate. i'm writing too many things at once as it is. but hopefully i can be a part of the next collection! in the meantime, have this. i am the dialogue queen. we're in the home stretch of this fic now! not many more chapters to go. comments and kudos make my world go round. motivate me, kiddos.
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob

Pete manages to hide the fact that he and Patrick are dating from the rest of the band for six months. He thinks he’s shown a lot of restraint, but once they’ve saved up enough money to get an apartment between them he knows it’s only a matter of time before Joe or Andy hear something, or god forbid walk into Patrick’s room in the middle of it. Pete’s room is across the hall, but he’s hardly ever in it.

 

He’s got a pile of clothes, all of his notebooks, and his bass sitting in Patrick’s room. Everything he could ever need. But it’s awfully incriminating.

 

Pete is lounging on Patrick’s bed, arms behind his head and only in a pair of ratty boxers. Patrick is wearing one of his t-shirts that reads _Wentz is whack._ Pete has a permanent boner when Patrick wears his clothes. Patrick is singing under his breath, headphones on upside down and his laptop on his thighs.

 

Pete has his eyes closed, just listening to whatever Patrick is working on for the new album. Patrick is like his safety blanket, he’s the only one who can make Pete calm. He thinks they should name an anxiety medication after him. _Pativan._ Pete snorts to himself.

 

Pete doesn’t have a chance to put on his skinny jeans before the door is flying open and banging against the wall. He sits up, frozen in his tracks, before slapping Patrick on the arm to alert him to the situation at hand.

 

“Ow!” Patrick scowls, taking off his headphones. He looks up and meets Joe’s eyes across the room, and then Pete gets a weird satisfaction when Patrick flushes bright red.

 

“J-Joe…” Patrick stutters. “We can explain. Pete was just-”

 

“Helping Patrick.” Pete supplies, giving Joe a toothy grin.

 

“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Joe asks, wide-eyed with disbelief.

 

“No. I mean, I’m helping him with the album.” Pete tries, grimacing at his own pathetic lie. It doesn’t fly.

 

“Right. And you have to do that in your boxers. Sure.” Joe deadpans. He looks back and forth between Patrick’s red face and Pete’s beaming one.

 

“I like to be comfortable, man. Gotta let it breathe!” Pete calls after Joe gleefully.

 

Joe turns his back in the doorway, and says:

 

“I’m telling Andy.”

 

Pete knows, objectively, that he is both faster and stronger than Andy. But he is nonsensically afraid of Andy. Mainly because Andy is the only real adult in this band. And he can’t let Andy ruin this chance with Patrick.

 

He’s out of Patrick’s room like a shot, chasing after Joe whose already in Andy’s room. Patrick follows behind at a more sedate, embarrassed pace.

 

“Joey T, I will kill you, don’t think I won’t-” Pete gets out before Andy interrupts him.

 

“Too late.” He says inanely. Pete squints at him, dumbfounded.

 

“You’re not angry about it? Not going to lecture me? Not even tell me that if I break his heart you’ll break my face?” Pete asks, confused as all hell.

 

“Those are all things you already know. I’m not wasting my breath. The only thing I’m going to tell you is that you better be in love with him for real, or so help me God, I will chop your dick off and choke you with it. And your relationship can’t effect what happens in the band. Understand?” Andy demands.

 

Pete nods, smiling so wide he feels as if his face is going to break. He tackles Andy onto the bed and hugs him. Andy doesn’t react, aside from patting him on the back before gently pushing him off.

 

“For the record, I saw this coming when you kissed him the first time. Glad you two finally got your heads out of your asses.” That’s about as close to an Andy Hurley blessing as Pete will ever get.

 

“Why am I always the last to know everything?” Joe says, exasperated.

 

“Sorry, dude. I didn’t want to keep it from you. I just wanted to make sure it was...real. Permanent, you know?” Patrick replies. Pete’s heart swells, and then he’s dragging Patrick back to his room by the wrist and slamming his door shut. He locks it for good measure, and then he takes his sweet time having his way with his favorite boy in the whole wide world.

 

xxx

 

Pete manages to hide the fact he’s an undead creature for almost an entire year since he and Patrick made it official. From experience, he knows that keeping things from Patrick usually makes things worse. But this isn’t an easy thing to explain to the love of your life. Even if he’s done it several times over, he’s determined to succeed in getting Patrick to be with him forever this time.

 

Unfortunately for him, he’s not as sneaky as he thought, and Andy has already figured it out. Damn him and his observational skills. He corners Pete in the kitchen when Patrick and Joe are out getting dinner.

 

“I know what you are.” Andy says lowly, pinning Pete to the counter top. If Pete didn’t know any better, he’d be a little turned on right now. Maybe vaguely hungry, but there are some lines even he won’t cross.

 

“What am I?” Pete laughs awkwardly, raising his eyebrows and trying to keep his voice even.

 

“I’ve been watching you. I thought it was weird, how you always left the apartment in the middle of the night at the exact same time, every other day. Like clockwork. So I followed you.” Andy’s voice is hard. Pete swallows, and manages to squeeze his way out from behind Andy’s weight.

 

“Okay. So you know. What are you gonna do about it?” Pete asks, completely petrified.

 

“Well, seeing as we’re here alone and you could kill me, I just want to ask you some questions. For now.” Andy says, his voice sharp in the face of danger. Pete’s heart sinks. He never wanted to hurt his friends, never wanted them to be afraid of him.

 

“Alright. Ask away.” Pete replies, swallowing hard. He’s been caught red-handed.

 

“How old are you?” Andy demands.

 

“Old enough.” Pete shrugs, noncommittal.

 

“Does Patrick know? He can’t know.” Andy murmurs, mostly to himself.

 

“He doesn’t. Not yet. I was planning on telling him, I swear. It’s just...touchy. Complicated.” Pete sighs.

 

“Tell me about it. Why haven’t you told him yet?” Andy asks, seeming slightly calmer than before. He’s taking this better than Pete thought he would.

 

“You won’t believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy.” Pete says, mouth going dry with anxiety.

 

“More than I already do?” Andy snorts.

 

“Whatever.” Pete rolls his eyes. “Patrick and I are soulmates. Like, for real. As in he is reincarnated every time he dies and I find him in the next lifetime. This is lucky try number 100. I’m pretty sure it’s my last shot at getting him to spend eternity with me. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

 

Andy stares at him, searching for a moment. Then he blinks, and says:

 

“Are you doing drugs?” It breaks the tension in the air and makes Pete choke out a laugh.

 

“No. It’s the truth. You can see why I’ve been avoiding telling Patrick. He’s the love of my many lifetimes and I don’t know how to break it to him without him losing his shit and quitting the band and probably never speaking to me again.” Pete blurts out.

 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot to take in. But he loves you, Pete. I think he might freak out but I doubt that he’d just quit and leave you. Maybe you should talk to him and give him time to process it. As long as you promise not to bite any of us in our sleep, you’re good.” Andy gives him a little smile. Pete exhales in relief.

 

“You’re right. And I wouldn’t. I _won’t_. I promise.” Pete says fiercely.

 

“I know.” Andy nods. “But you being a vamp explains so much.”

 

“Was I that obvious?” Pete groans.

 

“Just a tad.” Andy grins, and then he’s turning on his heel and gone with a flourish. Pete blinks at the spot he was standing, and then he decides to pace Patrick’s bedroom until he gets home. Time to be a big boy.

 

Pete hears Patrick coming up the stairs to the apartment, Joe trailing behind him. The front door opens with a turn of the lock, and then he hears the shuffling of them putting away groceries and bickering. Despite how nervous he feels, it makes him smile. This place, this _band_ , feels like home.

 

The realization is startling. He doesn’t just love Patrick. He loves Joe and Andy and the music they all make together. He loves the fans. He loves everything about this life and he desperately doesn’t want to lose it.

 

The bedroom door opens with a snick and there Patrick stands, in all his five foot five glory. Pete lights up at the sight of him, simply can’t help it. Patrick smiles back at him and starfishes onto the bed next to Pete.

 

“Joe Trohman is the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” Patrick says, muffled into the pillowcase. Pete trails his fingers down Patrick’s pale forearm and smiles at the way the hairs stand on end.

 

“Really? I’m losing my title to an amateur? Rick, you _wound_ me.” Pete replies, mock betrayal in his voice. Patrick opens one eye to glare at him.

 

“Nevermind. You’re right. You are the most annoying human being to ever grace this planet. What an achievement.” Patrick grumbles. Pete startles at the words _human being_ and quickly tries to change the subject. Sue him if he wants a little bit more normalcy before he drops the bomb.

 

“What did Joe do this time?” Pete forces out a nervous chuckle.

 

“We were arguing about _Neurosis_ again.” Patrick huffs.

 

“Ah. A classic, age old argument. Sounds like fun. Wish I was there to see your face turn red.” Pete says woefully.

 

Patrick rolls over and blinks open both eyes before he speaks this time.

 

“I hate you. You’re horrible.” Patrick grunts. Pete scoots himself into Patrick’s personal space and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

 

“Lies and slander. You love me.” Pete teases.

 

“What a chore it is. If only I had fell in love with Gabe.” Patrick says wistfully.

 

“You take that back!” Pete gasps, offended.

 

“I’m just kidding. I love you very much, Petey.” Patrick sighs, long suffering but with a fond smile upturning his lips.

 

“Oh, thank God. I love you the most.” Pete coos, wrapping himself around Patrick like a koala.

 

“Jesus Christ, why are you always _freezing?_ ” Patrick complains. Pete tenses up, letting a few seconds pass while he debates if he should take this opening or not. He decides he should get it over with.

 

“About that.” Pete clears his throat. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He untangles himself from Patrick and pushes himself to the edge of the bed. Just in case Patrick wants to hit him or throw things.

 

“What is it?” Patrick asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow. He sits up, noting how serious Pete’s face is and the way he’s curled up into a ball.

 

“I’m a vampire.” Pete admits, so quiet he’s not sure if Patrick even hears it at first. There’s a beat of silence, and then Patrick’s face crumples as he clutches at his stomach and laughs hysterically.

 

Pete expected many reactions, but this was not one of them.

 

“That’s real funny, Pete. Nice try.” Patrick snickers.

 

“It’s not a joke. It’s the truth.” Pete says somberly. Patrick realizes promptly that Pete is not amused, and his eyebrows rise nearly into his hairline.

 

“What the fuck? Dude, am I on _Punk’d_ right now?” Patrick asks, starting to sound like he’s on the verge of a mental breakdown.

 

“No. I’m afraid not.” Pete frowns.

 

“I must be losing my fucking mind. Since when?” Patrick splutters.

 

“Well.” Pete grimaces. “Since before I met you. Technically. It’s more complicated than that.”

 

“What? Please, fucking enlighten me! My boyfriend is a goddamn vampire and he never thought to tell me.” Patrick shrieks, his cheeks ruddy.

 

“I’m sorry.” Pete winces. “This is what I was worried about. This exact reaction.”

 

“How am I supposed to react to something like that? Remain calm? Say it’s no big deal? Are you _insane?_ ” Patrick yelps with indignation.

 

“I’ve heard that one before. But I’m really sorry. Let me explain.” Pete pleads.

 

“You fucking better.” Patrick says, his eyes blazing with defiance. “Prove it.”

 

“Prove that I’m a vampire? But Trick...I don’t wanna hurt you.” Pete replies hesitantly.

 

“Are you going to?” Patrick spits venom.

 

“No. I’ve been trying to protect you this whole time. But I can’t always control myself. My instincts.” Pete admits quietly.

 

“Show me.” Patrick demands.

 

“Are you sure?” Pete asks, timid.

 

“Show me or I’ll walk out that door and I won’t come back.” Patrick says it viciously. He means it. Pete isn’t taking any chances this time around.

 

“Okay. Just...stay still.” Pete commands softly. He shuts his eyes, and concentrates on the thump of Patrick’s heart, the blood singing through his veins, the smell of his skin. Pete lets himself picture biting into that supple, pale neck. He can feel his fangs growing, pushing against his lower lip, sharp with the tang of his own blood.

 

Pete opens his eyes and meets Patrick’s startled gaze. Patrick, against Pete’s order, leans forward to get a better look. Pete doesn’t say anything, just opens his mouth so Patrick can inspect the teeth.

 

“Wow.” Patrick says, sounding faint.

 

“Do you believe me now?” Pete asks, licking at one of his fangs pointedly. He avidly avoids staring at Patrick’s jugular.

 

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Unless I’m hallucinating…” Patrick mumbles, blinking hard.

 

“There’s more.” Pete blurts out, and instantly grimaces at the look on Patrick’s face and how he seems to be getting even paler.

 

“What else could there possibly be that could top this?” Patrick cries.

 

“We’re soulmates.”


	7. seven

 

“Come again?” Patrick blinks, the blood draining from his face abruptly.

 

“Maybe you should sit back down.” Pete says gently, guiding Patrick back to the bed before taking a deep breath.

 

“Pete, what the fuck are you even talking about?” Patrick asks, and he looks... _afraid_ of Pete now. It makes his heart constrict.

 

“I’ve been alive for a while. I’ve found a different version of you in every lifetime. You’re reincarnated every time, sometimes with odd variables but you essentially always look the same and remain the same person you’ve always been. There’s been a few variations of your name, way back before Patrick was a popular one.

 

“But I’ve been in love with every version of you. Somehow I always manage to fuck it up. You grow old without me, or you die tragically young, or you just leave. I didn’t want you to leave this time. This is my 100th and last shot. I think the universe is done giving me chances.” Pete blurts out, rubbing his hands over his face and avoiding Patrick’s panicked gaze.

 

“The fact that you’ve lied to me about two very important things doesn’t make me want to believe you. I don’t….remember any of that. Am I supposed to?” Patrick asks, his voice has an edge of hurt to it. Pete’s heart breaks with every word out of his mouth, even though it’s what happens every time Pete tells him the truth.

 

“Usually after I tell you, it comes back to you. It takes time though. A few days, maybe. It’s a lot of memories from a lot of different decades. I’m not asking you to make a decision about me right now. I just couldn’t hide it from you any longer.

 

“I love you, Patrick. Always have, always will. Even if you don’t wanna spend eternity with me. Even if you never remember what we had before. What we have now is even better, even _more_ electric than before.” Pete feels like he’s cut himself open, bloody and bare for Patrick and served up on a silver platter.

 

“I don’t know what to say. I’m angry at you for not telling me any of this like, I don’t know, when we first met?” Patrick squeaks.

 

“You would’ve ran for the hills, Patrick. You weren’t in love with me then. You didn’t even know me.” Pete groans.

 

“I feel like I don’t know you right now!” Patrick says shrilly. “God. Wait, hold on a second. Did you say that you want me to spend _eternity_ with you?”

 

“I mean-” Pete stutters, choking on his guilt. “Yes. Of course I want that. But that decision is up to you, it’s always been. I wouldn’t bite you, could never hurt you, let alone _turn_ you without your consent.” Pete begs for Patrick to trust him, like he did an hour ago.

 

“Turn me? Into- into a vampire. You want to turn me into a monster like you?” Patrick says it viciously, aiming for Pete’s throat. He succeeds, makes Pete flinch away from him. In all the times he’s had this conversation, Patrick has never called him that.

 

“Patrick,” Pete pleads for mercy. His voice is splintering around the edges. “Please don’t say that. I’m not..perfect. But I rarely ever kill my victims. In fact, I can live off blood bags if you want me to. We both can, if it makes you feel better. I swear, I can teach you how to control the urges.”

 

“How can you talk about it so casually? Like you aren’t draining people of their blood and treating them like a piece of meat? I don’t want to be like you, Pete.” Patrick snaps. There are tears sliding down his face, his cheeks a ruddy red.

 

“I can’t change who I am. Or what I am, for that matter. I wished for decades that I could make things different. But this is me, Trick. I hate myself more than you ever could, for what I’ve become.” Pete’s voice is brittle. He feels exhausted, like he wants to crawl into a hole and die.

 

“God, I don’t know what to think. Just get the fuck out of my room. Take your shit with you.” Patrick spits venom at him.

 

Pete hunches in on himself, but he obeys as his eyes sting with unshed tears. He picks up his clothes off the floor, his bass, his cell phone off the bedside table, and then he’s stumbling his way down the hall to his unlived in room.

 

It doesn’t smell like Patrick here. It smells like blood and death and defeat. All things Pete has been running from for quite some time. He should’ve known this would catch up to him. It always does.

 

He buries his face in the pillow and screams until his lungs burn. He has a feeling he should start packing his things, now that two thirds of his band knows he’s an undead creature of the night.

 

His heart shatters into even smaller fragments when he realizes the band will probably be over, too. He just didn’t think it’d hurt quite this much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short, but this chapter had to end here. next chapter will most likely be the last, but i promise it will be jam packed and much longer than this one! comments and kudos make my world go round.
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob


	8. eight

Pete is laying in his bed, motionless, while the other boys have a band meeting about him. He can hear it through the plaster with his heightened senses.

 

“HE’S _WHAT?_ ” Joe shrieks, sounding panicked. Pete can picture the exact expression of fear and shock on his face. Pete stares up at the ceiling and furrows his eyebrows as he waits for the verdict.

 

“A vampire.” Andy repeats gently.

 

“If anyone should be freaking out about this, it’s me.” Patrick says petulantly. Pete is sure his arms are crossed over his chest.

 

“What else did he tell you?” Joe squeaks. “Why am I always the last to know?” He sounds a touch whiny now.

 

“He told me we were soulmates. That he finds me in every life time. Basically, that I’m reincarnated every time I die.” Patrick supplies, his voice oddly blank.

 

“Do you believe him?” Andy questions carefully.

 

“I don’t know.” Patrick mumbles, considering. “I want to believe him. I mean if vampires are real, anything is possible, right? He told me it might take a few days for me to get my memories back from all the other lives we spent together. But if and when I remember...maybe then I can make a decision about this.” Pete is trying desperately not to get his hopes up.

 

“Are you forgetting the part where he’s an undead creature who wants to turn you into one of them?” Joe wails. Andy, always the voice of reason, cuts in here.

 

“We don’t know anything about vampires, realistically. Only myths. We need to talk to Pete and ask what being a vampire entails. How he handles it. He’s never hurt any of us before. We should give him the benefit of the doubt.” Pete lets out a puff of breath in relief, a reflex. HIs undead heart would flutter if it could.

 

“I agree. I was mad for a little while, but...at the end of the day, I love him, you know? I don’t just wanna kick him out of the band and my life as a whole.” Patrick sounds earnest. It makes Pete grin. Maybe he’s allowed to hope, after all.

 

“If we kicked him out of the band I don’t think we’d have one anymore. He’s our frontman, our lyricist, and our bassist. Kind of hard to replace.” Andy muses.

 

“You both make a good point, but I’m still freaked out.” Joe sighs.

 

“Fair enough.” Patrick laughs.

 

xxx

 

Andy calls him into the living room the following morning. Pete stumbles out of his room for the first time in a week, only clad in a ripped _Metallica_ tank top and a pair of purple boxers.

 

He sits down on the chair near the corner of the room, his two best friends and the love of his many lives on the couch, pressed together. It feels weirdly like an intervention.

 

“We have some questions.” Andy states. Pete is nervous, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

 

“Go for it.” He commends himself for not letting his voice shake.

 

“Have you killed anyone?” Joe blurts out. Fuck. That is not a good question to start with, in Pete’s personal, morally gray opinion.

 

“Well. I mean. Yes. But most vampires are burdened with having killed at least one person. The urges are hard to control when you’re new at it. Luckily, I had a great mentor who taught me to be pretty merciful. I stand by the whole snatch, eat, erase method. Or I drink animal blood, or out of blood bags as of late.” Pete answers, avoiding everyone’s eyes. He hopes he explained that right.

 

“Erase?” Patrick echoes him, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

 

“Vampires can compel people. It’s like hypnotizing them. We can make them forget things, or make them give us free stuff. Anything, really.” Pete replies. Patrick’s face starts to go red.

 

“Have you ever done that to us?” Patrick hisses.

 

“No! What the fuck? Of course not, Christ. I would never do that. To any of you. I promise.” Pete says vehemently. Patrick seems to relax when he sees the look on Pete’s face. He believes him.

 

“What else can you do?” Andy asks, curious.

 

“Uh, I mean. I have super hearing, strength, speed. That’s the extent of it, aside from the compelling.” Pete says without hesitation this time.

 

“Holy shit. You’re like an undead superhero.” Joe says, a little dazed. Andy snorts beside him.

 

“Kind of.” Pete smiles.

 

“Can you promise you won’t hurt us?” Andy inquires, his tone stern.

 

“Yes. I mean, I haven’t so far, have I? I’ve been a vampire for a very long time. I think I’ve finally got the hang of it. It’s the soulmates part I struggle with.” Pete admits sheepishly. Patrick gives him a searching look.

 

“You want to turn Patrick though, don’t you? Wouldn’t that hurt him?” Joe sounds accusing now.

 

“I do want to turn him. But that’s his choice. I’d never do it without his consent. As for the pain, he won’t feel much at all. If anything, most humans think it feels good. Like an adrenaline rush.” Pete answers. Patrick’s face flushes pink at the prospect of it. Pete refrains from smiling.

 

“How does it work?” Patrick inquires timidly. Pete looks at him, surprised. He didn’t think Patrick would want to know, especially if he doesn’t want to be turned.

 

“Well, I’d have to bite you and drain you to almost nothing. Then I’d have to feed you my blood. You’d be asleep for a while after that, but when you wake up you’d be really hungry. I have a plan for all of that, though. If it’s what you choose.” Pete replies, trying not to sound creepy or like he isn’t salivating. “If that’s what you want.” Pete adds on for good measure.

 

Patrick stares at him for a moment, his eyes dark and full of something Pete can’t place. The room itself is holding its breath.

 

“I’ll think about it.” Patrick says finally. “But even if I don’t want to be like you...I do love you. And I want you to stay here. In the band. With me.” Patrick smiles. Pete has to beam with relief when Andy and Joe give a nod of agreement.

 

“I love you too. All of you. Fuck, I thought I ruined everything for a minute there.” Pete chuckles.

 

“Dog pile!” Joe shouts, and then they’re all crushing Pete and tackling him onto the carpet. Pete is so lucky he has this, even if it’s not for eternity.

 

xxx

 

Pete can’t properly talk to Patrick about turning him because the band has taken off and they’ve gotten ridiculously busy. Pete can’t complain, because any time with Patrick or the fans is the best.

 

Making music together makes his soul happy. But even he’s exhausted by this point, going from interview to studio and back again. He doesn’t know how the other boys are holding up. Tour starts in a few weeks.

 

Finally, they have a Saturday night off and Pete is laying with his head on Patrick’s chest. He’s so happy to be back in Patrick’s room, Patrick’s bed, his arms.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Pete says gently. Patrick’s eyes flutter open so he can look down at him.

 

“You just did.” Patrick teases. Pete flicks him on the chest. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

 

“Have you made up your mind?” Pete asks, anxious for the answer. He really loathes the idea of living in a Patrick-less universe. Patrick blinks at him for a moment, before he realizes what Pete is talking about.

 

“Oh. Yes. I have.” Patrick confirms. Pete waits with bated breath. “I think I find this whole thing daunting but...I remember everything now. All the years we’ve spent together. And I think it’ll be fine with you showing me the ropes of how to live this way. The reward outweighs the risk. So yes, Pete Wentz. I want to spend eternity with you.” Patrick smiles down at him, his eyes full of tenderness.

 

Pete feels himself tearing up, and he can’t help but throw his hands in the air and yell with the amount of joy he feels. He did it. Patrick wants to stay with him. It’s been a long time in the making, but it’s so worth it.

 

“God, I’m so glad you said yes. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you turned me down for the 100th time.” Pete sighs, leaning down to kiss Patrick on the lips.

 

“Hey, I had viable reasons for turning you down the other 99 times.” Patrick laughs.

 

“I know. That’s why I never compelled you or forced you into becoming like me. It wouldn’t have been right.” Pete admits softly.

 

“You talk a big game about not being the most moral vampire but that’s not true. You’re a big softie at heart.” Patrick giggles.

 

“Only for you.” Pete says wistfully.

 

“I hope so.” Patrick replies tetchily.

 

“So... “ Pete pauses to consider his wording. “Do you want me to do it now, or?” Pete waits.

 

“How about we have sex, and then you bite me when I’m all nice and relaxed, yeah? It’ll be easier for me that way, I think.” Patrick supplies, eyes half lidded. Pete grins at him wolfishly.

 

“You want me to bite you while I’m fucking you?” Pete wants to make sure he’s not misunderstanding this offer.

 

“I mean, why not? Sounds like an intense orgasm for both of us.” Patrick laughs. Pete can’t help but beam at him before straddling his hips and leaning forwards until their foreheads touch.

 

“You’re an angel.” Pete says reverently.

 

“I beg to differ.” Patrick’s voice is deep and gravelly. Pete forgets what he was going to say, couldn’t care less when Patrick claims his mouth.

 

One of the benefits of being a vampire is stripping with super speed, so both him and Patrick are naked in seconds. Patrick looks down at them and huffs out a breath, his eyes full of amusement.

 

“Show off.” Patrick teases. Pete kisses him again, because he can. After a few minutes of rubbing up against each other, Pete finally manages to get a hold of the lube and slick up his fingers. He trails his hand down between Patrick’s legs until he reaches his hole. He crosses his fingers before slowly pushing into Patrick.

 

Patrick gasps and throws his head back. Pete nips his thigh and starts curling his fingers looking for the spot that will make him scream.

 

He adds another finger when Patrick starts to whimper. The grip around his fingers is tight, greedy for it. Pete twists his wrist and presses against Patrick’s walls until he squirms and shouts.

 

“Just fuck me already.” Patrick groans. Pete pulls his fingers free from Patrick’s heat and slides up his body until they’re pressed together from shoulders to toes. Patrick wraps his legs around Pete’s waist and Pete plants his hands on Patrick’s chest.

 

“Your wish is my command, darling.” Pete replies. He guides his dick inside Patrick with a lube wet hand. Pete’s face instantly softens with the pleasure of it, _hottightwetclose_. Pete starts up a rhythm, digging his nails into Patrick’s porcelain skin with every thrust.

 

He’s going so fast he’s worried Patrick might break, the headboard banging against the wall. Patrick has no such qualms about it.

 

“Do it. Bite me. Please, Pete. I want it.” Patrick begs, all wanton moans and panting breaths. How can Pete say no to that? Pete kisses him one more time, letting Patrick’s tongue glide over his fangs. He pulls on Patrick’s lush bottom lip before he pulls away and trails kisses down Patrick’s neck.

 

Pete is nuzzling, trying to find the perfect spot. He settles with the most sensitive spot on Patrick’s neck, because he wants to make his boy feel as good as possible.

 

Pete keeps his hips moving gently as he tilts Patrick’s head back for better access and sinks his teeth into his neck. The skin breaks easily, hot, delicious blood flooding into his mouth. Patrick whines in the back of his throat at the prick of pain, but it’s quickly replaced by a growl of pleasure.

 

Pete gorges himself, drinking in as much of Patrick as he can at once. The blood slides down his throat and leaves a metallic taste in the back of his mouth.

 

He loves it, loves Patrick, can’t believe he’s the one who has the privilege of tasting him at his most vulnerable. The best part of it is he doesn’t have to worry about getting carried away, he can suck Patrick dry before he feeds him his own blood.

 

His hips start to piston in and out of Patrick’s body faster, rabbity thrusts of his cock pressing against Patrick’s prostate. Patrick’s eyes are closed in bliss, he’s biting hard at his lower lip before he opens his mouth to scream when his orgasm crashes into him, cock spurting across his belly and all the way up to his collarbones.

 

Pete breathes in the scent of blood, sweat, and sex. He feels overwhelmed with it, slamming into Patrick’s body until he arches his back and comes inside him with his blood on his lips.

 

His dick twitches and he grunts against Patrick’s neck, his eyes rolling back in his head as he milks his cock for all it’s worth. Patrick’s walls are warm and wet and Pete wants to drag this out for as long as he can. He’s pretty sure he’s never come harder in his life.

 

His body finally relaxes against Patrick’s, but he stays inside him as he sucks down more blood. Patrick is flushed, and on the edge of being unconscious. Pete knows that means he’s close to being done. Pete hears the second Patrick’s heart stops, and he finally pulls back from his neck to lick it and seal the wound closed.

 

Pete hastily bites at his own wrist, cutting the skin open and bringing his wrist to Patrick’s lips so he can manage to get enough down his throat. Just a few drops will do.

 

Pete carefully pulls out of Patrick and pulls the sheet over them before cuddling up against his chest. He’ll have to worry about getting the blood bags ready when Patrick wakes, but for now he is content.

 

Patrick loves him. He’s going to spend eternity with Pete. He isn’t losing the band. He has everything he could ever want. And now he gets to add hot vampire sex to his list of fantasies.

 

Pete licks the blood off his lips and settles his head against Patrick’s chest. There may no longer be a heartbeat, but Pete is sure this boy has a heart of gold. He only hopes he can live up to Patrick’s legacy.

 

They’re going to take over the fucking world, he’s sure of it. Pete promised him. And Pete never breaks his promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta daaaa! sorry this took so long. i hope you enjoyed the happy ending. and the vampire porn. i gave you blood, gallons of the stuff....lmao. 
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob :-)


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